Up they come to the land of green mountains and everything is fine and dandy until the time of year rolls around when the farmers start spreading manure, fresh out of the cow or (gasp) the liquid type, upon their fields in preparation for the growing season, during the growing season and after the growing season (and any other time they deem necessary). Then it’s time for another round of complaints about that horrid smell coming from fields. It seems that these folks didn’t realize when they were happily planning their new home in Vermont that cows happen to have rear ends. Rear ends that work very well and very often as a matter of fact. Did they think that these beasts just ate all that grass and hay and held it all in?

Some even complain about the smell coming from a neighboring farm itself when the breezes blow gently across the cow barn, across the liquid manure pit and carry that classic barnyard smell of happy, contented cows into the kitchen window of a summer home 2 miles away. “Good God! It smells like sh**!!” they say. Did they expect it to smell like petunias?

Do these  down-country folks really believe the farmers hauling those manure spreaders behind tractors or driving liquid manure sprayers around a 50+ acre field on a hot day are having tons of fun, reveling in the smells of their profession?

So a warning to all these good folks who might be contemplating a move to the Green Mountain State. Be advised that with all the picturesque views, lakes, ponds, rivers, streams, forests, cold and snow to ride your snowmobile upon, there’s also the smell of good old cow shit that is bound to waft your way at one time or another. We’re not doing it just to annoy you, it’s simply a necessary way of life. A smelly one to be sure but necessary nonetheless.

Love us, love our manure.

This year the visit spanned a full three days. Three full days of talking and going out to eat for dinner at places Laurie and I would not normally visit as we tend to be chronic homebodies. No complaints about that you understand but like I said, the majority of the time is involved with talking, telling stories, relating events and generally laughing a lot–often late into the night. It’s wonderful and exhausting at the same time.

Do people still do this? Talk into the late hours?

I often wonder about this. Is the art of real conversation still alive? I mean outside Faecbook, Twitter and pecking at wee buttons on a mobile phone, is the art of actually talking to one another in more than 140 characters still practiced by the younger generations? You know, conversation that takes place face to face? The kind that happens by taking in breaths, letting them out slowly while flapping your lips and making vocal noises at the same time? Sitting around the deck/living room/kitchen table/wherever telling fart stories and laughing a lot till the wee hours of the morning?

I certainly hope so.

I hope so because my wife, her sister and myself (and our various other relatives, friends and neighbors) are getting rather on in life and there’s not that much time left to teach the younger folk that it’s actually possible to talk to one another without use of a computer, tablet or texting by mobile phone.

Anyway, the point of this post, before I wondered off topic like I usually do, was to point out why I’ve been abstained from my online life for the last three days. I’ve been busy talking, laughing and telling fart stories with my wife and her sister.

She left today to continue her meandering so I now I shall take up the reins of daily routine once more. It’s okay though–I’m pooped!

So, without further ado…

And I got to play with the WordPress 3.0 gallery function while I was at it. It’s probably the same gallery function that was included in the 2.9 series but I’m late on the gallery scene.

Anyway, that’s our quirky little house in the Clyde River Valley of Vermont. Not a level floor in the place but since it’s been that way for about 100 years now I’m not worried about it.

And no inside pictures yet–we’re not done unpacking.

In the last 3 weeks I’ve been twice to my local VA (2 hours away) and once to the Boston campus (5 hours away). Now I’m scheduled for 2 more appointments to my local VA, one tomorrow and one on the 14th, and one more to Boston on the 21st. I swear all these trips are making me sick.

I think it’s time to look into one of those flying cars.

I wonder if this would fit through the Callahan Tunnel?

If I start seeing Spanish moss hanging from the maple trees in the yard I swear we’re packing up and moving to Canada.

No need though as it seems. We’re apparently scheduled to go from mid-day 90′s to all of 72 degrees for a high by Saturday according to the weather report. I sincerely hope so since our “computer room” is situated in a flat roofed dormer that adorns the top of the house right where the sun can beat upon it from noon on. Can’t leave the computers on too long otherwise they tend to get this saggy-melty look to them.

Good news! I not only found the batteries for my old but trustworthy digital camera but I found the camera as well. I even braved the heat long enough to take several photos of our wonderfully quirky (and slightly tilted) house, yard and the surrounding landscape. They came out great.

So where are they already?

I’m terribly sorry folks but I’m going to wait until things cool down a bit as I need to shove them into my editing software, resize, trim, squash, expand and all that kind of lovely stuff before I consider them worthy of my high falootin’ site here. And it’s simply too hot up here to do that now. I think I’ve lost 8 pounds through sweat alone just typing this post and considering that I don’t weigh more than 150 pounds soaking wet I could be in danger of disappearing entirely if I don’t see the downstairs right quick.

Even the cats refuse come upstairs because of the high temps and when  that happens you know it’s hot!

See you on Saturday.